Gideon

Handing over the reins is hard. Handing over his heart…damn near impossible.

Gideon Blackwood is on the run—from Tanger’s meddling matchmakers. With no intention of following the rest of the Devils down the aisle, he heads for the hills to reassess a life spent leading and caring for others…and runs smack into the business end of a shotgun. At the trigger: a curmudgeonly woman with a broken axle and a load of responsibility.

In Chloe Ruskin’s experience, men take what they want and leave a mess of trouble behind. The safety of two orphans and her granny is at stake, and the last thing she needs is Gideon’s “help”. This time, though, she has no choice but to allow the big cowboy to fix her wagon.

As they work into the night, grudging admiration grows into attraction—and desire. Gideon finds he can’t dig his boot heels in hard enough to avoid falling for the opinionated little female.

When Chloe’s family disappears, her suspicion threatens to destroy any spark of love before it catches fire. Gideon finds himself making promises his pride won’t let him break—even if it costs him the love of the woman who owns the missing half of his soul.

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Reviews

"The adventure, the romance, it has it all. The love scenes were sensually romantic and they will curl your toes. This is the kind of story that will have you longing for a big, handsome cowboy of your own to come meandering into your backyard."
— 3 Hearts, Love Romances & More

"Lovers of Beth Williamson’s stories will like this book and those who enjoy American historical romances will find this a first-rate addition to their libraries…You can’t find one any better than this."
— Book Binge / Dr. J’s Book Place

"Beth Williamson has it all in this book from romance, passion, comedy to even a family getting a second chance at love and happiness. Loved it."
— 4 Angels, Fallen Angel Reviews

Excerpt

They didn’t speak as they set up their camp. Gideon built a fire close to the wagon, using it as a buffer for the wind and anything else that might try to visit them during the night.

As she unpacked the supplies to make supper, he used the quilt and blanket they’d made into packs to create a bedroll. There was no way they were going to sleep in the wagon with all the junk in there, not to mention the smell. He laid out only one bed—no matter what happened, it was the safest for both of them. He expected her to squawk about it, but she just glanced at him occasionally as she worked.

What was he to think of that? Was she hoping they would sleep together or apart? Perhaps she might even sleep in the wagon. He dismissed that idea. She was as repulsed as he was by the stench of the peddler woman’s things. Gideon was out of his element and didn’t know what to do or what to say.

Chloe chipped away at his control, and that made him short-tempered. He’d yelled at her enough to make her hate him, or at the very least dislike him. Yet she continued on with him, counting on him to help her find her family. He had already vowed in his heart to help her no matter what.

As he finished readying the bedroll, she gathered up a few things in the wagon, then appeared holding what looked to be a bedsheet. Her gaze settled on him, and the blankness in her eyes made him nervous.

“I’m going to wash up.” She turned to go.

“No, you’re not going anywhere alone.” He rose and put his hands on his hips. “We’re in a strange place, with obvious dangers no matter which way we turn. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let you go off in the dark by yourself.”

“I don’t want you peeking at me. I don’t need a babysitter.” She kept walking away.

“Chloe. I said no.”

She waved her hand in the air in dismissal.

Gideon thought perhaps his head would explode. “Chloe. Come back here.”

All he saw was her back disappearing into the woods. He stomped after her, furious and scared at the same time. She tied him into knots. Gideon wasn’t used to being disobeyed, and this little sprite was making him loco because she never listened to him.

“Don’t be peeking at me.” She had stopped by the creek, and from what he could see, she was glaring at him.

“I won’t peek, and I resent the fact you believe I would.” He didn’t mean to sound affronted, but it came out that way.

“I don’t know you from a hole in the ground, Mr. Blackwood. All we know is how to pleasure each other.” Her brazen words left him speechless.

She disappeared behind some bushes, and he took the opportunity to check the water. The creek was about eight feet wide with a gentle current. He cupped a mouthful and tasted it, and it was clean. Next thing he knew, a pair of legs went past him into the water. She either didn’t care if he peeked, or she hadn’t seen him squatting by the edge.

Either way, he was struck dumb by the sight of Chloe Ruskin in the moonlight. Her skin was like alabaster, glowing against the darkness around her. She was perfectly formed, curved in all the right places, with a round behind, long legs and beautiful breasts. Gideon’s staff tented in his trousers as he froze in place.

She scooped up sand from the bottom and started washing. He should back away and give her privacy. Yet something kept him there. She was like a selkie come to life, frolicking in the water and tempting him to join her. He shook his head to dispel the image and forced himself to creep backward. Unfortunately he stepped right on a stick that snapped with a loud crack.

“Are you peeking at me?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to come up with a reasonable response. “I was making sure you were safe.”

She hmphed and kept washing. “Then throw me my clothes over yonder so I can get them clean.”

Gideon rose, painfully aware of the throbbing erection between his legs, and found her clothes on a bush. The rough fabric should be burned, but he didn’t want to leave her with nothing to wear, however appealing that might be. He threw the clothes to her, and she murmured a thank-you.

With a tremendous amount of self-control, he turned his back to the sight of the incredibly delicious Chloe Ruskin naked in the water. He made himself recite Latin verbs in his head, leftovers from a childhood of schooling he never used. Then he recited recipes from the restaurant silently until he clenched his teeth so tight, he gave himself a headache.

“I’m done.” She breezed past him and the bush she’d laid her wet clothes on. To his shock, she wore only a bedsheet.